Dare To Love Me
by Adiemus1
Summary: He even forgot about gravity...but still, there were her eyes, pure, indolent in the middle of musical nonsense...
1. Premier: Pristine and Filthy

Hello, everybody. Now my usual style of writing mainly revolves around ancient times, Moulin Rouge or mystical genres, but I've decided to give the Outsiders a chance, so if this seems oddly out of place, that's why.  
  
--~*~-- Dare To Love Me --~*~--.  
  
She stopped dancing for a minuet, growing tired of the total exertion of the night. Moving out of the way for a man carrying beers high atop the heads of the clubbers, swinging and shacking to the rhythmic sound of the music, going faster and faster as the beat grew louder and mesmerizing. Swirls of color adorned the rooms, and the bright lights flicked above, as if screaming out their song.  
  
Feeling a bit too dizzy for her liking, the young woman followed the path of the sweaty bodies to the restroom, and locked herself in the cold isolated space, becoming more claustrophobic then ever...or was it really the lack of room? She knew it wasn't; it was what would come about later in the evening that simply terrified her and sent shivers down her spine. Standing up, she walked over to the sink, and turned the nozzle to cold, desiring the need for refreshment. Splashing the cool, clear liquid lightly onto her face, she slowly brought her head up and gazed in mirror.  
  
What she found shocked her...she found a girl she didn't even recognize. All her life people had compared her a doll, china or porcelain perhaps. Soft skin, thick dark lashes, which fluttered as if they were wings, rimmed her pale blue eyes. Her perfectly shaped mouth was scarlet, as red as blood, and her hair was a moderate brown color, finely scented and made up.  
  
And what did she do with this astounding beauty that was so graciously bestowed upon her? Why she gave it away. She sold her body to men, night after night, passion after lust. She was pristine...and she was filthy. The male species was drawn to her, despite the timid aurora she gave off; there was something bewitchingly seductive about her...something within.  
  
She hated it, but never did it show through her ways, her attitude, and her lifestyle. Secretly wishing with all her might to dream, to defy and to escape. She was a doll, trapped inside a hateful world of men, sex, money, and greed. Her hands bound tightly with strings ensured that she would never leave, for many told her this was paradise. A life free of law and law and limits...the paradise had one rule....never fall in love.  
  
A sharp knock on the door, and she was up like lightning, unwillingly ready to dominate or be dominated by the next victim of the night. Pulling her ever-fixing gaze from the mirror, she dried her hands and sucked in a deep breath, silently whispering to stay calm, to be secure...to be dazzling.  
  
--~*~--  
  
Sorry about the overall shortness of this chapter, I promise the next one will be longer. Also, I have a name already picked for this girl, but when she's in the club, I want her to have an alias, something seductive or mysterious sounding if you can think of one (an example might be like Satine in Moulin Rouge). Preferably French! 


	2. Deux: The Sparkling Diamond

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, I really appreciate them all! Okay, here's the next chapter:  
  
--~*~-- Chapitre Deux: The Sparkling Diamond --~*~--  
  
The full moon anticipating the arrival of the five young men as they left the car and walked into the club, following door after door, until they came to a curtain, strung high with glaring red lights, as if the purpose of the colorful string was to warn them of the images and wonders ahead. Each ignoring the flashing lights and tuned melodies, they quietly conversed amongst themselves until one of them spotted something in the mass of the twinkling surroundings.  
  
It was a girl, off to the side, for the rectangle of sunshine in the doorway was cut off. A girl was standing there looking in. She had full, rouged lips and hypnotizing eyes, heavily made up; her fingernails were red. She wore dark blue jeans, and a glittering black top. Soda caught his breath and simply stared at her...his sparkling diamond.  
  
First there were her eyes, eyes surrounded with a pure, indolent face. Things started to swirl around. A miscellany of intricate organic and mystical figures and designs filled up the space between them, and he forgot about everything. He even forgot about gravity. But still...there were her eyes, pure, indolent in the middle of musical nonsense.  
  
In a trance of magnetism he roamed over to her she stood, arching her back and thrusting her body forward for show. He almost wavered, somewhat taken aback by the seductive way her in which her body language spoke to him. Nevertheless, he was still a man, and with that thought scorched into his mind, he pressed on.  
  
Suddenly an array of showgirls stopped him in his tracks, and the once slightly angst ridden music was tossed aside, only to be replaced with the fast beating pace of a modern tango, so rapid was the speed, so mesmerizing were the fanciful individuals that swayed back and forth throughout the red room. And suddenly, as soon as she had appeared...she was gone.  
  
--~*~--  
  
She shut her eyes, but could still feel them around her - strong, sweaty bodies that had thrown her between them as though she were nothing but a rag doll...and still the tango rang in and out her ears. Her heart and head were throbbing with its rhythm. Her chest ached, and her throat felt thick and sore, as if she had been screaming, or was waiting to scream. As it was, she nearly laughed, her mind was buzzing and she felt half-mad, infused with the energy of the dance rather than exhausted by it.  
  
It took her some moments to center herself. She felt a sudden commanding presence, as shivered as a callused hand wrapped itself around her right wrist, its fingers pressing perfectly into the bruises that had been so generously bestowed upon her the night before. He was angry with her tonight; his roughness with her as they danced had made it obvious enough, and her refusal to acknowledge that she had given him good reason to be cross with her had only encouraged him on.  
  
It was of course, by no means, her employer Mr. Luc Claremont. He had only arrived two days ago from France, to see to the opening of his new club...as well as to pay a visit to a few of his girls, which he so candidly named the "Le diamant Traque" or in English, the "Diamond Dogs".  
  
He pulled her to the dance floor, and once she was certain that her legs would not give way beneath her she wrenched her arm free of his grasp, and glared up at him, daring him, almost mocking him, as she had been throughout the tango. There were so many questions in his gaze; ones that she had been avoiding, and still had no intention of answering. It was the frustration in his black leering eyes that told her she would not escape this particular encounter unscathed; and it was the utter determination in them that made her want to run all the more.  
  
Finally the song ended and Claremont dragged her into his office, a place she'd never been before, a place she'd often wondered about, yet in reality frightened her beyond belief. She was used to his ways, having worked in many a club of his since the tender age of twelve, and what wonderful yet treacherous age it was. She becoming a young woman, blossoming into a fragrant delicate rose, only to be tarnished and hid from the sunlight never being given room to breathe.  
  
She took the sat anxiously, and waited. The burly man left her for just a moment returning with two of the girls who worked at the club. Entering the richly furnished room came five women, a few more excited than the other. Monsieur Claremont had taken it upon himself to give his dogs French names, based on the obvious.  
  
And so they became transformed into creatures of the night, starting with Amour. Her name did not particularly suite her well; for the word amour means love...lover should have worked better. Then there was Tourte, and tart she was. The sultriest of the group, she was one who took the most pleasure in her occupation as a slave. Tatouage claimed the most eccentric name and body, her name meaning tattoo; she possessed them in abundance, artistic work traversing her in an array of spirals, fairies, butterflies, diamonds and hearts. Fraise's name only did justice to her beauty, for it signified her red hair, as red as a strawberry, and her bubbly demeanor was twice as sweet. Chocolat was the last aliquot of the dogs, her sensual dark skin resembled her name, and her frosty white eye shadow took the place of icing on the treat.  
  
And she? Why she was Soleil, the Diamant étincelant, his favorite out of the entire liter, the one he would not touch but praise and reward, yet still held firmly onto the leash. As she glanced up once more she found six new "gentlemen" had entered the room...  
  
...and the leash was tightened.  
  
--~*~--  
  
Okay, Translations: Amour ~ Love Tourte ~ Tart Tatouage ~ Tattoo Fraise ~ Strawberry Chocolat ~ Chocolate Diamant étincelant ~ Sparkling Diamond Soleil ~ Sun 


	3. Trois: One Eye Weeping, The Other Eye La...

--~*~-- Chapitre Trois: One Eye Weeping, The Other Eye Laughing --~*~--  
  
Soleil hung her low in shame as the last client of the night hastily gathered up his clothes, mothering her with a rough kiss as he left. She brought her knees up to chest, holding them securely. She winced as she heard the clamorous slander coming from the nearby room. Soleil had heard it often, some wear screams of exertion, others of agony. The woman's voice grew louder, and the clashing of wood harshly hurled across the room, followed by the muffled sounds of punching and finally, the welfare of the slamming of the door.  
  
Soleil sucked in her breath and made her way to the ruinous area, finding Monsieur Claremont had already arrived, tending to Fraise, who was currently nursing a broken arm. The man shook his head over and over again, feeling slightly discomposed with the situation at hand. Soleil said nothing, but rather picked up a discarded chair, turning it upright and placing it next to the bed. Scanning the room she found herself suddenly dizzy, and felt it necessary to leave. Lifting her palm to her head she walked out, nearly colliding with a handsome young man.  
  
"Excuse me," muttered, glancing down at the floor as she went by, needing air desperately. He surprised her by taking her arm, and as she turned, she came to face with the most eloquent eyes she'd ever seen. She stared into the pure brown orbs filled with a such a manner of mystique, and in return was giving the feeling as if she were closing her eyes, lifting up her arms with the wind caressing her body...it was as if she were flying. The boy stared back into her owning, the intensity rising like lightning.  
  
"Are you alright?" He managed to choke out, still concentrated on the beautiful pale sapphires, which so dangerously threatened upon tears. She nodded her head, speechless and frightened; this feeling was so new to her...she didn't understand it. It wasn't lust, she knew, but what else could be so passionate? He took her hand and led her put to the opening of the doors. He wiped a crystalline drop that fell down to taint her soft rosy cheek that so rightly felt like silk.  
  
He slowly brought his hands up to her porcelain face, and cupped her chin with one, leaving the other to wrap around her back, pulling her gently towards him. She obliged, finding herself drawn in by the tenderness she had now come to love. She leaned in, as did he, and captured her mouth, locking it to his own, wondering what had come over him. There was something so tantalizing about her, so spectacular, so sacred. And she, by no means echoed the thoughts of this young lover, though she did not perhaps surpass them. She stepped back abruptly, ending the utopian gesture with reluctance.  
  
"Damn you." She whispered, rendering her best not to see the hurt within his gorgeous eyes. She tried to walk away, to show him she was serious, yet still he held on fast. Placing his hands delicately upon her bare shoulders he pleaded with her to stay, to never leave. Closing her eyes, Soleil shook her head in utter frustration and discomfort.  
  
"You deserve someone better than me...someone you could respect." When his precious diamond voiced these last words he instantly understood her situation. He mirrored her previous movement as if a puppet on the stage.  
  
"Don't make judgments already, and I won't either....I 'd like to get to know you...." He paused, hoping this fallen angel would declare her name, but was faced with disappointment as she refused silently, not even looking at him...and hating herself for it. This was the life I chose, she told herself, this is my burden to carry... my burden to carry alone. She leaned in one for more kiss, as if saying goodbye forever. Slowly she melted into it, like rich chocolate dissolving into the heat, about to become whatever the chef wished of it.  
  
The loud clearing of a throat stopped the two in their tracks, pulling apart as magnets being torn away form each other, the shock still present. Amour stood close to three feet away, hands on her hips, red lips pouting and eyes steadily narrowed. Her foot dressed in black heels tapped in a rhythmical pattern of frustration and the glee of having found the Diamant étincelant caught in the act.  
  
Having done her duty, she went back inside to her sanctuary, turning once more before she was finally out of sight to give one a glare and the other a seductive wink. Soleil sighed and ran a hand through her coffee colored hair, about to repeat her "friend's" steps. Soda caught her arm for the last time that night, kissed her hand and tucked a piece of stray hair back behind her twice-pierced ear. Kissing him on the cheek, a familiar pain entered her heart and she made her way to the club doors, stopping for a moment, staring at the glaring red lights. She turned again, and made eye contact.  
  
"Soleil....my name's Soleil." Soda cracked a grin, running to her, dipping her down for a final kiss and went on his way, calling out his own identity. Soleil left the underground world...one eye weeping, and the other eye laughing.  
  
--~*~--  
  
I know this was short, but my stories mainly consist of much detail and little dialogue...if you want anymore, just say so, and I'll do my best. This is going to be a sort of Romeo and Juliet, Moulin Rouge fic, but I haven't decided if I want to make one of them die yet...most likely I wont. Also, as you might have noticed, my original fiction titled "The Empress" has been moved to FictionPress.Net, so please read it and tell me what you think. (It won't be up until Feb. 16 though...) 


	4. Quatre: One Day I'll Fly Away

Author's note: This takes place two years after the end of the book.  
  
--~*~-- Chapitre Quatre: One Day I'll Fly Away --~*~--  
  
Soleil entered the salle rouge, her private apartment above the club, and quietly shut the door, as to not wake Fraise, and leaned against it, pressing the doorknob into her back. She lifted a cool hand to her lips, still reliving the experience with a frivolous smile spreading across her face. She felt lighter than air, as if she had wings...wings. She walked cross the room to the armoire where she found a set of sheer white material fitted ever so intricately with small crystals sewn into the fabric. She slipped it on, finding herself drawn to the balcony, where she extended her arms widely, shutting her eyes and began to soar. She saw clouds, moons, and shooting stars playing around in the midnight sky. Soleil, caught about in the feeling of subtle tranquility, began to sing...  
  
I follow the night  
  
Can't stand the light  
  
When will I begin  
  
To live again?  
  
One day I'll fly away  
  
Leave all this to yesterday  
  
What more could  
  
Your love do for me?  
  
When will love be  
  
Through with me?  
  
Why live life from  
  
Dream to dream  
  
And dread the day  
  
When dreaming ends?  
  
One day I'll fly away  
  
Leave all this to yesterday  
  
Why live life from  
  
Dream to dream  
  
And dread the day  
  
When dreaming ends?  
  
One day I'll fly away  
  
Fly, fly away...........  
  
Disinclined, she took off the wings and draped them over the pole of her bedpost, listening to the slight clinking of the crystal hitting against the wood wrapped in thin tapestries. She heard a small sniff, and turned to face Fraise, sitting on her bed on the other side of the vast room.  
  
Having six girls, Monsieur Claremont decided it ideal that there should be three rooms, for two dogs each. Amour and Tourte, being the superficial vixens, were given the same space; the salle rose, or rose room. It was furnished with absolute elegance, high society riches from the century before, and completely Victorian. Chocolat and Tatouage were given the salle jaune; decorated in mainly modern art, such a spiral figures, contemporary fixtures and trinkets. And Soleil and Fraise were given the salle rouge, the finest of them all in their eyes. The walls were deep red, and thin sheer tapestries filled the room with such as sense of enchantment. More strands of lights in red and white hung from the ceiling in different places embracing the four bedposts well. A crystal chandelier dangled form the top of each bed, their jewels twinkling like stars.  
  
Soleil made her way over to the large thick screen in one corner of the room, changing out of her clothes and into a silk kimono Monsieur Claremont had brought back from Japan. Walking over to the little cuisine, or kitchen, she pulled out two saucers and teacups, filling them with rich steamy cocoa, one she handed to Fraise, the other she eagerly drank up herself. Her hand shaking, Fraise took the cup and slowly brought it up to her pink lips, savoring the taste.  
  
"You make the best chocolate." Soleil voiced her 'thank you' as she picked up a spoon, stirring it round and round her beverage. She looked over at the damage that had been done to her dearest friend and her eyes began to burn with hatred. The girl was merely sixteen, too young for such a life of hatred and despair. Her innocence was lost, obviously; Fraise could not turn back now, she could not adapt to the old lifestyle of hers with ease.  
  
Soleil hopped off the bed, wanting desperately to utter something about her night, but couldn't. It was too much of a risk, and she only hoped Amour would be quiet. No, she wouldn't put Fraise in a situation like that. Sighing and climbing into her own bed, Soleil heard the whimper of her friend, and her small voice asking what it would be like to live freely, in a world without chains and barriers. Closing her eyes and weaving her fingers in out of the fringe, she closed her heavy lids, and began to speak of the places once lost to her.  
  
"Well, I'm from out west...California. It's a place so stunning you often want to pinch yourself because you constantly think you're dreaming. There are large tan walls that reach up to the sky, majestic purple mountains, clear blue waters that shine so brightly and run so smoothly you can see the round little pebbles under it. Regal trees stand tall and proud; green pastures and desert flowers cover the land, and every morning you're greeted by the rising sun, embracing the sky in an array of soft pinks, oranges and yellows. When the afternoon comes, it sits high above the clouds, blazing down to the earth for all to see; and come evening it slowly but surely sets, inviting you to gaze up at the regal orb of light, preparing for a good-nights sleep, surrounding you with many different colors, like a rainbow after a storm. Finally the moon and stars come out to play, joyfully dancing cross the sky, celebrating for whatever reason imaginable.  
  
As she went on, Soleil found herself feeling lost, sad, and hopeless. She was, after all, just a young girl...who needed a dream to come true.  
  
--~*~--  
  
Please review, I hope you enjoyed it. 


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